


Hard to Get

by JSinister32



Series: A Testament to Hope [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Mutual Pining, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, hope and love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27496627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: Will and Hannibal had been broken up for six months.  When confessions are made during a work function, can they find it within themselves to forgive?
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: A Testament to Hope [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014045
Comments: 28
Kudos: 211





	Hard to Get

_“Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it._   
_Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it._   
_Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it.”_   
_-Martin Luther King_

* * *

_I don_ _’t want to do this._ Will straightened his bow tie in the bathroom mirror for what felt like the dozenth time, running through his mental checklist one more time to ensure there was nothing he had forgotten to do while getting ready. He hated every minute of black tie events; menial excuses to hobnob with people vastly above his pay grade, talking of things that didn’t matter and would continue to not matter when the party was over. But Jack had insisted. If it hadn’t been for that, he would have remained home with a drink and his lecture notes, surrounded by the hushed quiet and comforting fur of his pack. Instead, Agent Crawford had informed him in no uncertain terms that he was to be there on time, dressed as he should be with something resembling a smile on his face. Everyone that mattered within the Bureau would want a chance to talk to the man who had just cracked not one, but two cold investigations, and their department needed all the good press it could get, especially after Will’s continued and inexplicable ability to antagonize Freddie Lounds, ensuring she would carry on with labeling him as an unstable danger to everyone around him. For some reason, the higher ups frowned upon it. 

Will had agreed reluctantly, but not without adamantly voicing his distaste at being forced into a suit to smile and nod like a trained monkey. In the end, Jack hadn’t cared how he felt about it, as long as he showed, so there he stood, trying to straighten a bow tie that twisted downward on the right, no matter what he did to fix it. There were only so many times it could be retied before he’d give up, and the man that would have fixed it for him was no longer there to do it. _Stop. Stop thinking of the past this instant. That way only leads to pain that you won_ _’t be able to deal with tonight._

It had been six months since the spectacular fight that had ended the best and healthiest relationship Will had ever been in. Six long months of trying to forget the scent of Hannibal’s aftershave, the languid Sundays they’d spend together in bed, the nights they’d cook together, relaxing into conversations about their day. In the end, those beautiful moments had turned to bitter, ugly accusations, miscalculations and finally, the end. Hannibal had packed his things, the few items that were a constant reminder of the fact that Will often shared his space, and left without another word. A few days later, a box had been placed on his desk at work, containing all of the items he’d left at Hannibal’s. 

He still hadn’t unpacked the box.

Will thought he’d enjoyed his time alone, but that had been before he had met the handsome psychiatrist that had turned his quiet, ordered life upside down. Now that the pieces of his existence were shattered, Will found that even though it was beginning to hurt less, he was still unable to figure out quite how the pieces went together again. It had been getting slowly easier, until the day Jack announced the staff changes.

When Alana had left the country with her wife, Hannibal had graciously accepted a position within the Bureau as the head staff psychiatrist, taking her place in ensuring the country’s finest minds stayed in the best possible shape for them to continue to perform their duties. The fight that had taken place between Jack and Will was still discussed in hushed tones, nobody sure who had truly come out on top. In the end, Hannibal still took the job. Will did his best to stay out of his way during the day, made sure he never graced the corridor to Alana’s old office, and booked his required appointments with the other staff shrinks. It had hurt far more than he wanted to admit, but he managed to do a decent job of keeping his regret and the pain away from doing his job. They kept a respectful distance from one another, an unspoken truce that ended at the corridor to Hannibal’s office.

But then there were events like tonight that made the memories of their time together come rushing back, barreling into Will with the force of a tsunami. Because of his position, Hannibal would also be asked to attend, but he had a talent for holding entertaining conversations and charming their superiors. He’d also likely have one of his beautiful men on his arm, someone pristinely elegant and well mannered; a stark reminder to Will of his shortcomings. While it had never been an point of contention when they were together, every time there was an event they had to attend, Will was given a painful demonstration of Hannibal’s taste in his partners. He liked to pretend it didn’t matter, but he steadfastly kept an eye on his ex at all times to ensure there was no awkward conversations between them. It had nothing to do with the fact that Will still found Hannibal to be the most attractive man he’d ever set eyes on, or that he missed him like an ache, especially when he was dressed to perfection in a formal suit, a devilish smile playing on his lips for most of the evening because he knew what would transpire when they returned home. It had nothing at all to do with any of those things. 

Just because Will pretended to be okay with how things were didn’t mean he was, and the parties made it painfully clear how broken he still was.

Glancing at his watch, Will cursed. Meandering through his memories of Hannibal, he hadn’t realized how late it had gotten and he needed to get going if he was going to make it to the event on time. Taking a final look in the mirror, he stopped, surprised at his appearance. While he didn’t look happy, the cut of the formal suit broadened his shoulders a touch, narrowing his waist to make the most of his slight physique. He had managed to tame his hair enough to look wildly elegant, falling effortlessly in waves across his forehead. The infernal bow tie was behaving for the moment, neatly knotted at his throat beneath a well clipped five o’clock shadow. He had even managed to almost convince himself while shaving that it was his personal preference, and had nothing to do with how much Hannibal had enjoyed rubbing his cheek against the prickling hair, murmuring into his ear that he wanted to feel the sensation on the insides of his thighs before the night was out. 

_All in all, not bad. At least I won_ _’t be shown up too much by his date tonight._

After a short but fierce internal debate, Will decided on the aftershave Hannibal had purchased him for Christmas, something clean and masculine that had probably cost more than most of the clothing in his wardrobe. Will added a little to his face and neck before taking a final glance in the mirror. Good enough. Turning off the light, he gathered his overcoat, and after checking the dogs a final time, made his way into the cold November air. As he drove, he worked to shut down the nervous anticipation for the evening, instead settling on a quiet hope that he could come through it no worse for wear.

***

“Will, good to see you again! Excellent work on the Three Rivers case. I can’t believe you solved it after only two days of going through the old evidence.” Will took a sip of wine, schooling his features into the polite mask he used when talking to his superiors at such events. It took some practice, but he had managed to keep from scowling at anyone all evening, something Jack had seen fit to mention, humor dancing in his dark eyes when he did.

“I’m always happy to be of assistance when it’s necessary, sir. It’s nice to be adding another tally to the winning side of the board.” Director Michaelson smiled thinly before nodding, his arm wrapped around his wife’s slim waist. They made a handsome couple, well matched in both appearance and the severity of their personalities. Watching them communicate without speaking as they moved through the room made Will’s heart ache, but he steadfastly stopped himself from so much as glancing around the room. _I won_ _’t look for him. It doesn’t matter if he’s here or not. He isn’t mine anymore._

“Quite,” the man replied. “It looks like you’ve finally managed to shake most of the bad press you’ve gotten from that awful Lounds woman as well. Good show, Graham. Keep up the excellent performance and we might just get you into a window office yet!” 

Will hid his grimace behind the glass in his hand, taking an unnecessarily large sip to keep his retort behind his lips. It had never been an ambition of his to advance to a loftier position within the Bureau; if it was up to him, everyone would leave him in peace to teach his techniques to others, preparing them to do the heavy lifting. The days of being excited by the prospect of chasing people down, having to be the one to solve the case and bring in the bad guy, had dwindled significantly with the conclusion of last few cases he had worked. It got less appealing with every passing case. Had it not been for Jack’s constant guilt trips, he would have contented himself to his quiet life, but the Agent was determined to use his mind in any way he saw fit. The results were always worth the big picture, but the using his gifts took a toll on him, especially without… someone to assist him in tempering the worst it. The director thanked him again and excused himself, striding off through the room with his wife trailing at his heels. Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clearing his senses of another mundane conversation. When he opened them again, his heart clenched hard at the sight before him. 

The director had stopped in to join in a circle that contained the only man Will had been hoping to avoid. He had managed two hours without so much as a glimpse of Hannibal, and had finally breathed a little easier. It didn’t seem he’d decided to show that evening, much to Will’s ( _dismay_ ) relief. Conversations had gone far easier without the looming inevitability that their eyes would meet, drawn in like moths to a mutual fire. Will had sipped on a single glass of wine, relaxing with every minute that passed without the doctor making an appearance. Now, that comforting surety was shattered in the wake of the doctor’s sudden appearance.

Hannibal stood a few feet away from him, tall and smiling in an expertly tailored black suit, his arm around a man Will had never seen before. The man in question was elegantly attractive, a little stouter and several inches shorter than the doctor, fitting against his side as if the space had been carved out specifically for him. White hot jealousy rose up into Will’s chest, the feeling so strong it took his breath. The man leaned into Hannibal’s embrace, smiling up at the doctor at something he said to the group. _That_ _’s not where you belong_. _It isn_ _’t you he should be holding_. Before he could do something stupid, Will turned away and made his way to the bar. _If I have to witness another night of this, I might was well numb it a little_. 

“What can I get for you, sir?” the bartender asked politely.

“He’ll take a double Scotch neat, but if he asks you for another, the answer is no,” said a voice beside him. Will glanced sideways to meet Jack’s eyes, misery etched plainly into his features. The man behind the bar’s eyes widened, but he nodded, turning to make the drink requested. Will ran a hand through his hair, accepting the proffered glass when it came. He took a sip, grimacing at the burn before speaking.

“Regulating what I drink now?” he asked, the bitterness he felt clear in his words. Jack didn’t reply, instead looking out into the room as he took a sip from his own glass.

“I know that you’re winding down, and the last thing you need is to ply yourself with alcohol,” he replied after a time. “I also know that your safety net isn’t here to help you anymore, and seeing him with someone at every event makes it harder for you to keep yourself under control.” Will’s jaw set, but he nodded, taking another sip from his glass.

“Yet you still force me to make an appearance, knowing full well how difficult it is for me to be here.” The words were an accusation, one Jack didn’t bother to try and deny. 

“I need you here, and you know it,” the other man replied. “You have done so much for the department in the past few months, and people want a chance to talk to one of the finest minds the Bureau has ever had. I have to take the big picture into account when I make my decisions, and I believe I still choose what’s best.”

“For the department, sure,” Will retorted. “For Jack Crawford, a man still attempting to claw his way into a window seat, absolutely. But did it ever occur to you that what’s best for you is very likely to be terrible for me? That your requests of me are too much? Beyond that, do you care who you break to get what you want?” Jack regarded him over his glass, his eyes unreadable.

“I am not breaking you, Will,” he said finally, his voice soft. “The sight before you is doing that. Watching Hannibal moving on without you. That’s what’s causing your pain.” Will laughed, the sound as sharp as broken glass.

“Of course you would go there,” he replied. “It’s never the fault of Uncle Jack, friend to heroes, catcher of bad guys, the fucking guru. No, it’s my fault because the man I love parades a long line of men who are better than me through the places you refuse to let me avoid. It’s my fault, because I care for someone who is no longer mine, and it hurts in ways I don’t know how to express.” Jack sighed, looking into his glass.

“You could move on too, you know,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t have to be just him. You could try to be happy beyond him.”

“There is no beyond him, Jack. There is no moving past him. He was everything, and he was mine. I don’t want someone else.” Will threw back the remainder of his glass before setting it back on the bar. “I’m going to go have a cigarette, because that’s the only thing that helps me get some catharsis from these shitty situations you keep forcing me into. When I have finished, I am calling it a night. You’ve gotten everything out of me that you’re going to get tonight.” Without waiting for a reply, Will turned on his heel and made his way through the room, reaching the balcony doors at an almost run. His chest heaved, throat dry from the expensive Scotch he had thrown back like he was guzzling cheap whiskey at a frat party. He pulled open the door, admitting himself into the cold night air with a grimace. 

_Fuck. Fucking damn it. Why did I have to say any of that? Jack doesn_ _’t need to know how weak he makes me, how much it still hurts._

Will made his way to the edge of the balcony, resting his arms on the railing as he fished the battered and likely stale pack of cigarettes from inside his jacket pocket. The cold autumn air whispered through the trees, ruffling his hair and raising goosebumps along his back and arms. Shivering, he suddenly wished he had thought to grab his overcoat. He pulled out a cigarette, inhaling the tobacco smell before placing it between his lips. He didn’t smoke often, but had found that it helped keep him calm on nights like tonight, the ones where he had to face his colossal mistakes while pretending to be happy and at ease in the company of people he didn’t enjoy. _I hate this. Hate feeling like this._

He patted his pockets, finally locating his lighter. Replacing the pack into his jacket, he clicked the lighter, bringing it to his lips. It didn’t spark. Frustrated, he shook it, clicked it again. Nothing. Glancing around, he checked for anyone else, someone that might be able to lend him a light, but there was nobody around. The cold air had seen to that. _Figures_ , he thought dismally. He shook the lighter harder, clicked it a third time. The flame sparked, fluttered, but still didn’t light. _God damn it. How much worse can tonight be?_

“You always were terrible at remembering to fill your lighter fluid,” said a voice beside him, startling him out of his anger. A lighter clicked, the tiny flame coming into view as Will started violently, his breath catching in his throat. _No. No, no._ Hannibal held the flame steady, waiting. With a lurch, Will leaned forward and lit his cigarette, breathing smoke deeply into his lungs as the lighter clicked shut. The profiler blew out a plume of smoke, leaning forward into the railing as he tried to ignore the frantic pounding of his heart. _God, he looks so good and he_ _’s right here in the cold with me._

“You know I don’t smoke often enough to try and remember every nuance that comes along with it.” His voice came out almost steady. _Point for me._ Hannibal nodded, removing a gold plated, initialed cigarette case, tapping one out onto his hand before lighting it. The light from his lighter briefly illuminated his handsome features, casting them into sharp relief. Will watched him from the corner of his eye, silently pleading with himself to keep his composure. Hannibal leaned into the railing beside him, taking in a lungful of smoke, holding it for a moment before breathing out into the cold night air. The grey wisps circled around them like a small cloud, disappearing into the wind. Will shivered at the sight, remembering other nights when their cigarettes had been shared instead of smoked side by side. They had been nights of the most satisfying and exhaustive sex Will had ever experienced, a cigarette needed just to bring himself back to some state of relaxation. They were still what he thought of in the darkest hours of his loneliness, when he brought himself to climax, fisting his cock as he imagined Hannibal whispering to him, telling him how good he was to show him what he needed. _Stop it. Those nights are gone._

“It’s a bad habit to keep,” he said. “Best left for when it’s absolutely needed.” Will snorted, taking another drag.

Which is why I forget to check my lighter for fluid,” he retorted, taking in another lungful of smoke. Silence fell between them for a moment as both men continued to smoke. 

“Where’s your date?” Will asked before he could stop himself. Hannibal chuckled, the sound sending sparks tumbling down Will’s spine. Much to his dismay, the shiver that ran through him had nothing to do with the cold. J _esus, I can_ _’t even control my reactions to his fucking laugh. I'm doomed._

“Donovan is inside somewhere, likely deep in discussion with the commissioner. They were arguing over chamber music,” Hannibal replied dismissively. “I grew bored of their company, and needed some air. He will very likely be exactly where I left him when I return.” Will’s stomach twisted painfully as he tried not to react to the words. They still managed to cut through his heart, burning along his skin like fire to flash paper. _Donovan. Even has an elegant name. Why does it have to hurt so much?_

“Oh.” Will cleared his voice, trying to extinguish the thickness that filled it. D _on_ _’t you dare get emotional now. Keep it together, for the love of god._ “Good to see you’re doing so well. It seems you have someone new on your arm every time the Bureau throws one of these.” Hannibal turned to face him, leaning his side into the railing as he stubbed out his cigarette.

“Perhaps it’s because I can’t have what I want,” he replied, his voice as soft as smoke. Will trembled, his entire body reacting to the sound of Hannibal’s voice, deep and low in his throat. _He used to sound like that after sex,_ he realized with a lurch _. That was the sound of his voice when he was truly and deeply satisfied._ The profiler’s stomach turned, suddenly feeling as if it were filled with large chunks of ice.

“I see.” They stood silently, side by side, refusing to look at one another. Will wished his heart to cease it’s incessant pounding. _God, I_ _’m such a loser. Standing out here with my ex, talking to him about his new lovers as if I’m not a smoking fucking wreck of a man inside. But I take it, I listen just so I can be near him a little longer._

“Well, I hope you find whatever you’re looking for,” he mumbled, straightening. “I have had enough of tonight, so I’m going to head off. Thanks for the light.” Will turned, intending to head back inside, only to find a hand holding him in place. Glancing down, his brain took longer than it should have to make the connection: Hannibal’s fingers were coiled around his wrist, preventing him from leaving.

“Don’t you want to know what I want, Will?” the doctor asked, his fingers sliding down to caress the skin just below his palm, gentle fingers circling along his pulse point. Will’s knees trembled, his entire being focused on the sole point of contact, the press of Hannibal’s fingers, warm on his sensitive flesh. It took him a minute to understand that Hannibal had asked him a question.

“What-” Hannibal pulled the profiler to him, caging him back against the railing he’d just escaped. The cold, hard metal pressed painfully into Will’s back, but looking up into Hannibal’s face, he could barely feel the pain. _Oh- oh god-_

“It’s difficult,” he continued, overriding whatever Will had been about to say, “because I had who I wanted, once upon a time. He and I were… good to one another. We were good together. We got foolish and complacent, and he escaped me. I want him back.” Will stared for a moment, absorbing the words before snorting derisively, his anger finally making an appearance. He pulled at his wrist until Hannibal relinquished it, barely resisting the desire to rub at his skin. _Won_ _’t give him the satisfaction._

“You had who you wanted, did you?” he demanded, holding Hannibal’s surprised gaze. “If that were true, you’d have made it apparent six months ago, not at a party where you think I have to be polite.” Hannibal watched him with hooded eyes, but didn’t reply. Will turned and looked out into the gardens, trying to calm his pulse as he continued.

“How long have we been working together? How many opportunities did you have to tell me that you missed me, that you wanted to try again?”

“Would you have listened?” Hannibal asked quietly. “Had I come to you with open arms, would you have heard me out, or would you retreat inward like you always have when things got difficult between us? I have tried to let you go about your life, stayed out of your way so you can continue to fool yourself into believing that we don’t belong to one another. Even now, you can’t admit to yourself how much you miss me.” Hannibal advanced, caging Will in his arms, gripping the railing to either side of the profiler to prevent any attempts at escaping. Will breathed hard, trying to not lean into the warm chest that was suddenly inches from him. How many times had he dreamed of a confession like this one? How could he believe it to be the truth? Hannibal leaned down, his breath ghosting the shell of Will’s ear, cutting all thoughts from his mind in a wash of warm, damp air. Will fought the moan that immediately rose into his throat, trembling in Hannibal’s grasp as the doctor spoke, his words low against the shell of his ear.

“Don’t think for a moment that I don’t notice your efforts,” he breathed. “I saw you immediately tonight, as soon as we arrived. I caught the scent of your aftershave as I passed you to collect a drink. You cannot convince me with any level of sincerity that you were not thinking of me as you got ready for this event.” Reaching a hand upward, Hannibal tugged at the ends of Will’s bow tie, deftly easing the silk apart to hang down along the front of his jacket. Will stopped breathing, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. _God, please, please don_ _’t let me have a heart attack. Please-_ The top button of his shirt was eased open by clever fingers, the collar loosened as Will’s pulse skyrocketed. The kiss against his skin was as soft as falling snow, the doctor’s lips cold against the heated flesh that had been protected by his shirt collar. Weak, Will succumbed to the gentle stroke of Hannibal’s mouth, turning his head to offer the doctor the long line of his throat. Hannibal released the railing to wrap his arms around Will’s slender waist, pulling him into the solid warmth of his chest. Will melted against him without a second thought, shivering at the sudden encompassing heat. _God. Please._

“When are you going to cease this game between us?” Hannibal whispered against his skin. “I want you. I miss you. Please.” Will whimpered, lost. Hannibal bit gently along the skin of his neck, bringing another cry to the profiler’s throat. Will swallowed the sound painfully. He didn’t want to think anymore. He didn’t want to fight, to wonder how bad he was going to feel at seeing the latest of Hannibal’s conquests. He didn’t want to wonder if any of it mattered, if he had ever meant anything to be man cradling him to his chest.

He wanted to feel. He wanted it more than he wanted to take another breath. Hannibal cradled him close, pressing his lips to the exposed skin offered up to his mouth, driving all rational thought from Will’s mind. Leaning forward, he turned in the doctor’s embrace, disengaging his mouth from Will’s neck. Without hesitation, he wound his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders and pressed his mouth nervously to the warm lips offered to him. The world went quiet around them as they kissed gently, the barest brush of lips, the emotions that threatened to spill between them fragile as glass. As the moments passed and realization hit them both, Hannibal made a small, fantastic sound and wrapped Will into his arms, pulling him closer as he deepened their kiss. He licked along Will’s bottom lip, begging entrance. As Will opened to him, Hannibal swept his tongue inside the hot depths, tasting, claiming. Their tongues coiled, mapping the familiar contours of eachother’s mouths, the quiet sounds of enjoyment swallowed by the kiss. Will tentatively lifted his hands to the doctor’s hair, running his fingertips through the softs strands at the back, ensuring it wasn’t ruined for the evening.

They kissed for long minutes, relearning the way it felt to be together, wrapped up in one another. Will's cock began to ache, filling out to press painfully to the front of his slacks. As if sensing his need, Hannibal's hand descended to rub the palm along his length, pulling a moan from his lips. _Christ, I'm not going to survive-_

A thought nagged at the back of his mind, slowly overtaking the bliss of the man who held him to his chest, taking slow possession of his being from the mouth down. _What am I doing? He_ _’s here with someone. I’m standing out here, allowing him to be unfaithful and all I want is more. More, more, more_. Will groaned, easing back to rest their foreheads together, their heat of their breath mingling momentarily between them before he took a full step back, immediately missing the warmth of the doctor’s arms.

“I can’t do this, Hannibal,” he croaked, his lips still tingling from their contact. Hannibal stared at him, the hurt confusion plainly etched into his features.

“Can’t do… what, exactly?” he asked. “Let me love you?” Will swallowed hard, his heart cracking. _Love. It was always love for me, but you could never say it._

“Let you be unfaithful,” Will replied. “You’re here with another man. I can’t let you become that person, no matter how badly I want you.” Hannibal laughed without humor, raking a hand through his hair, loosening the carefully slicked back strands into a wild disarray around his face. Will’s eyes widened at the sight; Hannibal had never been disheveled at a party. It had been a point of contention between them in the past, yet here he was, mussing up his own hair in his distress. _Oh. God._

“You’ve always been so noble,” Hannibal murmured, frustration plain in his voice. “It has always lead to your downfall. Donovan is my date, not my lover. I needed someone to accompany me; he was free tonight. We have only ever been friends.” He reached forward, running the pad of his thumb along Will’s lower lip. “I very much wish to continue what we began here tonight, Will. I can’t-” Hannibal’s voice cracked with emotion, stilling Will’s heart. He had never, in all the time they spent together, shown even close to the level of emotion he exhibiting in this moment. So many nights when they’d fought, Will had wanted to connect with the man before him, rile him to the point of showing that he cared. He had always remained steadfastly stoic.

Hearing it in his voice now was terrifying. 

“Can’t… what?” he whispered, holding the beautiful maroon gaze with his own. Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will’s back, pulling him close before burying his face against the warmth of his neck. _Jesus. Oh Christ_. The vulnerability he was showing did more for him than any moment they had spent together. It felt real. _Oh god, please. Please let it be real._

“I can’t lose you. Not again.” The quiet words eased through Will’s soul like honey, clinging to the broken parts of him, soothing and healing the worst of the ragged edges left in the wake of their breakup. He pulled Hannibal closer, breathing in the delicious spice of the man’s cologne, chasing it to where it had deepened on his neck.

“If this is really what you want,” he breathed against Hannibal’s neck, “you know where I live. I was planning to head home after my cigarette, and now I’ve had that… and a taste of what I want for the rest of the weekend.” He placed a small kiss on Hannibal’s cheek before stepping back.

“You still have a key, don’t you?” Hannibal watched his face for a moment before he slowly nodded. Will smiled, turning to leave. “Then I suppose I will see you at home.” Hannibal watched him leave, his eyes shining with the tiniest sliver of hope. 

“At home then, dar- Will.” 

Smiling for the first time in what felt like ages, Will made his way back through the doors, collected his coat and left the party, hoping above hope that the man he left standing on the balcony was telling him the truth. 

_Hope is made of feathers and glass, he thought. Beautiful and infinitely fragile. It will show you who you are, and lift you to heights you never imagined_ _… as long as you protect it._

He made his way home as if in a dream, happy and hopeful, parking his car to the left hand side of the closed garage door to leave space for Hannibal to park. He made his way up the steps, letting himself into the quiet hush of his home before taking the time to hang his jacket and lock the door. Pausing just to breathe, he closed his eyes, sending out a prayer to whomever might be listening, then turned back to the door. With reverence the action wasn’t really due, Will flipped on his porch light, staring through the panes of glass at the warm yellow glow against the cold evening air. Smiling, he turned and made his way to the bedroom to get out of his suit, thinking about the kiss he had just experienced. 

_A light for you, my love. To illuminate your way. A beacon to guide you back to me. Just in case you need it._


End file.
